Temporary reassignment

For the next few weeks, my usual website is down and moved to a new location, a dot info instead of my usual dot net. This is because I received conflicting emails, saying my auto-renewal had posted, then another one saying it was due, blah blah blah, and when I finally called them today about it, lo and behold, those emails were for two different things. I'm sure if I was a bit geekier in my knowledge of All Things Computers, this wouldn't have gotten mixed up as it did. And, of course, being that I'm a huge loser, my website hasn't even been finished or updated since January. Okay, so I've had a few huge, life-altering things occur this year... sue me. No, don't really sue me. Humor.

Or, ya know, a pale attempt at it.

So... for those who may occasionally wander onto brendabradshaw.net, and can't find it, you now know to go to brendabradshaw.info.

In bigger and more exciting news today: SEASON PREMIER OF NCIS! WOOT!

That's all.

As Ms. Julia Quinn said it best...

"This is why I write romance."

For those who follow me on Facebook as well as this blog, sorry for the double posting, but I wanted it on here too!

Let me hear that BOOM BOOM POW -- Wait, in CAMERON?!

1) This is not a joke. The following events are true and accurate and experienced by yours truly.

2) Cameron, TX: Population approx. 5300 (yes, really)

3) Time since moving into the new house: two weeks

So, for those who are familiar with the blog, it comes as no surprise that I'm writing about this Sunshiny Town called Cameron, which I sometimes (lovingly...*cough*) refer to as God Spit, Texas. This is another of those posts.

It's a gorgeous June Tuesday night (nope, not even a WEEKEND! Can you even believe it?!) and I'm sitting outside on my beautiful deck while my four babies frolick in the new pool. They have Shan's laptop playing music to which they've choreographed this odd pool-dance thing to. I'm standing on my deck, watching the refreshing shimmering blue of the pool, the beaming smiles of my amazingly talented children when all of the sudden...

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three gunshots in rapid succession. We all freeze then instantly jump into action, herding the smaller ones out of the pool and up the deck as another three

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

explode in the air, sounding like they're RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE!

The kids are screaming and Carly scurries them all into the bathroom (smallest window, like this is a tornado or something) while I snag my cell and dial 911 while opening another drawer and pulling out the Constantly-Loaded-Walther, also known from hence forth as WALT. I dash back out the door onto the deck and I'm telling dispatch that I heard three shots in rapid succession, about a 30 second pause then three more shots. She kind of puts me on hold and takes another call of someone else reporting it, but apparently this guy went out his FRONT door and got a look at the car as it sped away, and noted that the gangster was right-minded enough to turn on his stupid left blinker when he got to the four-way stop two blocks down. How socially conscious of him. JERK!

I hear voices from the deck. Our house sits on a full city block, a total 0.51 acre, so our side neighbors share their backyards to our backyard. Two neighbors to our one backyard. Make sense? So we all start comparing notes.

THEN! I see from the backyard that going down the road is someone on a GOLF CART! HUH?!?! Oh wait... it's the HIGH SCHOOL PRINCIPAL! No, I'm not kidding.

Now, for the record, I grew up in Dallas/Ft Worth. I lived in Cove for awhile where we did have some stabbings at the schools. But in CAMERON?! Gangs?! Uh... okay.

So, in the end, it's a block party. And I'm not kidding. 10:30pm and the intersection is filled with cops and detectives searching for casings (they found four of the six) and all the neighbors gathered together. So, I got to meet some new neighbors I hadn't met yet. That's nice, right? Then more people start to show up who HEARD IT ON THE POLICE SCANNER and came to check it out, all saying hi to each other and blah blah blah and "How is your grandmother doin'? She good? Good to hear it!"

I stand there, godsmacked.

The police and the neighbors all reassure me that in all their lives living here on "this side of town", they'd NEVER heard gunfire or any gang activities. Yeah sure. Not only did it sound right in my front yard, but it was in the street literally in front of it. I'm kinda thinking they were aiming at the the principal; he lives next door about 1/2 a block down. HE, of course, thought my house was the target. The casings were found right between us, so I'll go on thinking they targetted him and he'll probably keep thinking that they targetted me and we'll both revel in our denial.

About a year after moving here and living out in the country, I'd heard a gunshot then too (I'm pretty sure I blogged about that too). The cops came out and said it was someone shooting snakes. Eeep. But this wasn't snakes. This wasn't the country. This was a few blocks from the schools in the middle of "the good part of town". Very scary in this odd surreal way of everyone hanging out, and all that was missing was a bonfire and marshmellows on sticks.

The weird part? Yes, I mean weirder than the above. Shandie's friend was telling her some details, and get this! It was members from this gang: Eighteen and a Half.

I'm not kidding.

This town has "half" streets. So like 401 N. 15 1/2. So they have a GANG named EIGHTEEN AND A HALF?!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Better hope 15 3/4 doesn't raise up to take you on! And you better really hope you don't ever meet the gangs in Austin or Dallas where they're not named after HALF STREETS.

This has been your newest Cameron update. A shout out to my new neighbors, especially the across the street neighbor Mr. Hooker, the high school principal and owner of the golf cart. You rock!

I hate April

The following conversation took place via text messages with my oldest daughter, Shandie, who is currently at Texas State University.

Shandie: Mom, I have to be out of my dorm by 5pm tomorrow.

Me: What?!

Shandie: Are you going to be able to come and get me?

Me: April Fool, huh?

Shandie: I wish. They did a search of my dorm and found alcohol and cocaine in my dresser.

Me: Cocaine.

Shandie: I've been suspended for a full semester. I'm losing all of this semester's credits with no refund. (Side note: That really is the school policy...)

Me: Sucks to be you then. (She lost me on the cocaine. Bad drug choice on her part.)

Shandie: Thankfully they didn't find the prostitutes under my bed.

Me: I just hope they were MALE prostitutes.

Shandie: You know they weren't. I had me a tranny. As Hannah Montanna says, "You get the best of both worlds."

Me: Hit Mimi (my mom) with this next.

Meanwhile, I'm trying not to wet myself in the van while laughing hysterically at the Hannah Montanna quote. Mimi does not have texting, so Shandie had to do it all via telephone and have NO DOUBT that she did, indeed, make that particular call. I think there was an odd glee Shan got when hearing the distress in my mother's voice as she wove her little tale of lies. And my parents thought I was bad. The worst I ever did to my mother was the "Mom, I'm pregnant." Every year for years and years, I did that call, even two years after I had my hysterectomy. Welcome to the new world generation with people like Shandie with their Hannah Montanna and tranny prostitutes.

Monday's Music

Say your sorry
That face of an angel comes out
Just when you need it to.
As I pace back and forth
All this time cause
I honestly believed in you.
Holdin' on
The days drag on
Stupid girl I should have known, I should have known.

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you sweep off her feet,
Lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now it's to late for you and your white horse to come around.

Maybe I was naÎve, got lost in your eyes,
and never really had a chance.
my mistake, I didn't know to be in love
you had to fight to have the upper hand
I had so many dreams about you and me.
Happy endings, well now I know...

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you sweep off her feet,
lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now its too late for you and your white horse to come around.

And there you are on your knees.
Begging for forgiveness, begging for me.
Just like I always wanted but, I'm so sorry.

Cause I'm not your princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm gonna find someone some day, who might actually treat me well.
This is a big world.
That was a small town, there in my rearview mirror disappearing now.
And it's too late for you and your white horse...
Its too late for you and your white horse to
catch me now.

In honor of Inauguration Day...

Our Presidents!

I'm a geek: I watched it twice... the second time to see when neckties became popular to wear. Apparently bowties were the fashion before Roosevelt, who stepped out of the box and wore a regular necktie. What a rebel.

Then if you notice, Jimmy Carter is the first to smile for the portrait, then they all did! Way to start a trend, President Carter!

Quest in Saving the Contemporary!

With paranormal still hot and going strong, and with the lovely comeback of historical novels with notable thanks to Sherry Thomas and Courtney Milan, it seems that the basic of contemporary is on a horrible downward spiral. Considering I write contemporaries, this is not a good thing at all.

The ladies over at Smart Bitches are campaigning to save the contemporaries with a fantastic free book offer. They recently did a review for Jill Shalvis's novel called INSTANT ATTRACTION and loved it so much that they're offering to give away copies if you post on their comments (I highly recommend you read the review too. They really liked this book and it shows in the review and gives you a bit of insight as to what the novel is about.)

So help spread the word! Help save the genre that's so very close to my heart.

The Best Book Review EVER!

I'm not kidding. I just read the entire thing aloud to Shan so we could both crack up laughing. I'm warning you though, it's a review about an erotic novel, so keep that in mind. But, rest assured, it's totally worth it to hold your sides as you roll laughing at how the SMART BITCHES break it down.

By far the best line from the review (and probably the book over all): "I'm in your ass. Saving your life."

I didn't make that up.

A World Away

Today I made the comment that I wanted to run away... if just for a little while. One great friend mentioned Tennessee, but she has a hidden agenda (we haven't seen each other since we were little kids!). Another simply asked me where I wanted to go, and ya know, I had no answer.

As writers, we're always creating worlds, this being especially true for paranormal/sci-fi writers since they have to create vastly different worlds with different rules and everything.

But all writers do it. The location, sometimes a city even... or just a job, an apartment or house. Decorate it. Live in it. BE in it to have it come to life on paper. And then the cast of thousands. All in this new world created in one's imagination.

But where is your world? That personal, just-for-you place? If you were creating a place for a fictional you, where would your story take place that isn't the reality you currently live in? A mountain top with snow-capped ridges, filled with the scent of cold and purity that only snow can create, mingled with the heavy scent of the pine trees. The air so frigid you're afraid of freezing from the inside out, but you have to inhale deeply anyway, a visceral need to swallow the cleanliness of it into yourself. The crunch under your feet with each step you take. The whispers of whomever is with you, who knows that only softly spoken words fit in this particular environment. The smoke rising from the chimney of a cabin, the fire inside beckoning you into its comforting warmth.

Or do you prefer a beach? The salty, briny air you can smell and you can taste on the tip of your tongue. The gentle breezes lifting your hair from your face as you watch the firey sunset meeting with the endless blues as it darkens. The individual grains of sand sifting through your toes, the water lapping up to greet you a little at a time as the tide comes in to say hello, depositing small gifts of shells and pebbles for your pleasure of exploring. A bonfire at night, the crackling wood, the colors of the flame as it licks the salted wood, the warmth of a blanket and the person you want with you to keep the chill away.

Where's your world?
What do you create?
Where would you run?

As for me, I'm not really sure, but I'm definitely going to think about it and create it, not to be shared in a book someday, but to be treasured by just me for those moments when I crave the escape. And I'll know it'll be there, waiting to greet me.

Hero

I am in love with this song so I thought I'd share it with you.



Would you dance if I asked you to dance?
Would you run and never look back
Would you cry if you saw me crying
Would you save my soul tonight?

Would you tremble if I touched your lips?
Would you laugh oh please tell me these
Now would you die for the one you love?
Hold me in your arms tonight?

I can be you hero baby
I can kiss away the pain
I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away

Would you swear that you'll always be mine?
Would you lie would you run away
Am I in to deep?
Have I lost my mind?
I don't care you're here tonight

I just want to hold you
Am I in too deep?
Have I lost my mind?
Well I don't care you're here tonight

You can take my breath my breath away
I can be your hero

3 out of 4 children wish you...

A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Dawning

I sat here for a moment and wondered what to label this particular blog entry. The I-wish-I-wrote silly girl in me always likes to to attempt to come up with something fun and different, but my mind grew blank. I vaguely knew of what I wanted to write, but as usual, I opened blogger without any exact idea in mind. As usual, my brain vomits in eruption of chaos and spews out of my fingertips. In less than 30 seconds, the title slammed into me.

The time is 7:10am on Saturday, January 3rd, 2009. This is my first blog entry for the new year. Anyone who knows me at all is probably sighing at the time of the writing. No, I'm not waking up at my usual morning time. You are correct, for those who attempted a guess: I have yet to sleep.

My initial thought is, as usual, to blame someone else, and in this case, it would be the ever delightful and disgustingly talented Susan Elizabeth Phillips. For those who have not yet had the honor of reading her book, AIN'T SHE SWEET, you should be flogged on general principle, however, once you do read it and question why you've been granted life to continue for such a blatant oversight as to have not read it sooner, I shall save my beatings. Even though this is by far the first time I've read this novel, once again, I read it to the end. Once again, I laughed. Once again, I cried. And once again, I sighed as it was over. Sugar Beth -- I know thy soul all too well.

As I finally turned out the light to sleep and rolled over, I noticed the odd smokey blue of the sky. My room faces east. Sunsets are more my thing than sunrises as I'm usually very much still asleep at this time of morning when the sun graces us with its appearance. But those few times I catch a sunrise, I cherish them. Not enough to arise early every day, but just those special accidental occasions such as this.

I don't miss sunrise-kisses as much as I thought I would. And there was a time in my not-so-recent past that I never thought I'd be able to proclaim that sentiment.

In a weird act, I gathered up my laptop and headed to the backyard, and climbed up onto the new trampoline Santa brought the kids. I hadn't even been back here since it was set up -- why? I mean, after all, I can see it from my bedroom window.

I see lots of things from my bedroom window.

I don't live them. I see them. From the enclosed sanctuary I've made for myself.

So... I'm out here now, sitting on this new trampoline, and since I live in the country, imagine this: a flat pasture, ten acres, the tallish grass brittle and brown, fall leaves gathered high along the cyclone fence that separates the backyard from the field. There are no buildings out here in the country save two very old, tinroofed barns, the boards gray and white with age, and tin tops rusted to a dull reddish brown, sagging in the middle, missing boards in the outter walls. Just a flat landscape turning softer blue as I type. In the far distance, the tree line looks almost like that of a sketch, the trees having no defining lines. Barbed wire pulls and leans on old pieces of wood, almost sticks really, something some old rancher somewhere thought would serve as fence posts. Along that fence, dividing this property from the neighbor's land, Scout, my black cat with white socked feet scampers along, probably wondering what I, of all people, am doing in the back yard, much less this time of day. I wonder where she's been overnight and what all she saw and played.

I'm watching the sky turn to fire. The pink that begins the sunrise. There's a very mild breeze. It's January 3rd, but it's Texas, and although it was bitterly cold with winds in December, now it's mild, maybe 55 degrees with this tiny breeze. A canopy of leafless branches of the huge old trees are above my head as I sit cross-legged in the middle of a black trampoline and realize what I coward I have become.

The sun winks shyly above the treeline in the distance.

And for the first time in a long, long time, I'm awake.